Visions. Part 11

Their past was still in Paige's way. She clutched the long-held grudge like a life preserver.

Regardless of her inability to forgive and forget, they had nothing in common. Other than cas.h.i.+ng Mayson's donation once a year, there was nothing else she could think of to talk about. Not to mention the sight of her made that grudge s.h.i.+ne bright and her insides quiver despite the fact she'd just come around her own fingers with Vinden's seductive whispers guiding her every step of the way.

"So we meet again. This is becoming quite the habit." Mayson extended her hand as if this was the first time they'd ever met. "I'll consider this our formal introduction. It's nice to see you."

Paige stared for several seconds, unsure how to react. Would it be right to shake her hand with the same fingers that had just been deep inside herself?

I just m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.ed with that hand. She's going to smell me.

Paige succ.u.mbed to convention and placed her hand in Mayson's. "We don't have to pretend we like each other, Miss Montgomery."

Mayson gave a gentle tug and pulled Paige several inches closer. "Are you stalking me, Miss Burton?"

Paige jerked her hand free, ready to unleash the hounds of h.e.l.l. Stalking her? She'd have to like this money-laden b.i.t.c.h to stalk her.

"Stalking you? What in h.e.l.l would I--?"

Sam practically slammed into Paige and greeted Mayson with a sugar-sweet smile. "h.e.l.lo, Miss Montgomery. So great to see you again. I'm Samantha, by the way." She then turned a death glare on Paige.

"Good to meet you. Again. Would you ladies like to join me for an ice cream cone?" Mayson's sinfully dark chocolate gaze rolled back on Paige. "Some of us could use a little cooling down. It's rather hot in here."

Did she seriously have to look so hot when she was being sarcastic? Why couldn't she look like a normal billionaire? Whatever that looked like. But it sure didn't look like this. It didn't wear tennis shoes and denim and tight-a.s.s T-s.h.i.+rts. That, Paige was sure of.

Paige hooked her arm through Sam's. "Thanks, but we were just leaving." She attempted to pull Sam away, but Sam locked her feet into place and refused to budge.

"We'd love to join you," Sam said. "We're sitting by the window. Please come join us."

Paige fumed and threw Sam a hostile glare, then flounced to her chair and her now-melted ice cream. She didn't want to share time with Mayson. Not after hearing those erotic whispers of her mystery woman. What the h.e.l.l was Sam trying to achieve? She knew Paige couldn't stand Mayson. Knew being around her gave her the hives.

c.r.a.p!

Sam eased into the chair across from Paige. "I'm doing this for your own good, sourpuss. You'll thank me later."

Before Paige could respond, Mayson set three cups of ice cream on the table. "Wasn't sure what you ladies preferred. Rocky road seems to be the house favorite."

Sam thanked her. Paige spooned ice cream into her mouth and mumbled, hoping the gesture would pa.s.s as a thank-you.

Mayson slid into the chair next to Paige. "I'd love to hear more about your charity." She directed the question to Sam.

"Oh, not my charity." Sam nodded toward Paige. "That's Paige's baby."

Mayson turned those pretty eyes on Paige.

Paige lifted her chin a little higher. That's right. Me, me, me. How's that for thinking I do nothing more than grind a f.u.c.king stripper pole?

"I'm impressed," Mayson cooed. "It's no easy task to create a charity. Lots of work. And promoting."

Like you'd know! Paige resisted the urge to roll her eyes and simply nodded. Why did she feel so growly around this woman? Why couldn't she let bygones be bygones? She felt like a petulant teenager. A scorned lover. She was none of those things. She was a grown adult. A mature, grown adult. Why couldn't she act like it? What was it about Mayson that reduced her to immaturity?

"Did you change your mind about that date? You could tell me more about your charity." Mayson's dimple dipped in once again. "My treat."

"Are you insinuating that I can't treat myself, Miss Montgomery?"

"I imagine you can treat yourself quite well...Paige." A satisfied smirk washed over her lips.

What the h.e.l.l was she smiling about? Paige had to look away. How did Mayson manage to rub her the wrong way? The fact that in a single sentence she had implied that Paige couldn't afford dinner? Or did she want to make sure Paige remembered that she was made of money? She didn't give a s.h.i.+t about this woman's vault or how much she had stored inside it. It was just money. It couldn't buy Paige's respect. Last she checked, Mayson had lost her respect with a simple push into a lovely park fountain.

"Paige would love to go out with you," Sam said. "We were just discussing how we'd be honored to have your involvement for her next fundraiser. In less than two months."

Paige whipped her head up to stare at Sam. Oh, h.e.l.l no, she didn't! She was going to need more than her remaining vacation days when Paige got done with her. She was going to need medical disability.

"Is that so?" Mayson smiled and spooned ice cream into her mouth. Paige couldn't help notice the muscle flex on her bicep. Seriously, what the h.e.l.l did this woman work out with? Concrete blocks? Bulldozers?

That f.u.c.king dimple appeared on her cheek once again.

Paige pulled her gaze away from those buff arms and abs and that lickable indention. "You should make a better habit of getting to know the charities you donate to."

Mayson shrugged. "Agreed. I'm ashamed to say that duty calls me away from writing every check myself."

"Yeah. I'm sure. Must be a hard life soaking up the rays on your private-"

Sam kicked Paige's ankle.

"Ouch!" Paige eased back. "Monster."

"Paige would love to give you all the details about the upcoming event. It promises to be spectacular. How about tonight?" Sam turned her hard glare back around, and it magically transformed into a sticky-sweet smile on Mayson.

"I have plans tonight, Samantha Renee Harrelson," Paige cooed.

Sam ground her teeth, and Paige couldn't help but smile. She never realized how cute Sam looked when her top was about to boil over.

"I'd love to hear more. Go on that date with me, Paige."

Sam tapped her fingers against her ice cream cup, daring Paige to say no one more time.

Paige wouldn't do it. Sam could browbeat her, kick her, claw her eyes out, and take all the days off she wanted. No h.e.l.l way she was going out with Mayson Montgomery.

"Don't be afraid. I won't bite," Mayson said.

Paige prayed that Vinden would bite. Hard. Right between her thighs. "Pus.h.i.+ng seems more up your alley, don't you agree?" She squared her sights on Mayson.

"All the more reason to let me take you out." Mayson spooned ice cream into her mouth and Paige fought not to look at those lips.

"I can't be bought, Mayson. Your money means nothing to me, and it sure as h.e.l.l can't buy your apology."

Mayson looked stunned for a second. She glanced across the table at Sam, then slowly diverted her sights back on Paige. "Now you're implying that I'm a coward?"

"Aren't you?" Paige could feel the air rush from the room as Sam sucked in a startled breath.

"Go out with me and find out yourself. What else do you have to lose?"

"My self-respect?"

Sam's feet s.h.i.+fted and Paige jerked her leg back just in time to miss another kick.

"I promise to leave your self-respect intact." Mayson laid her spoon in the empty cup, wiped her mouth with a napkin, then tossed it in the cup as well. She pushed out of her chair. "I'll meet you at the club. Make it tomorrow night. You won't regret it."

Mayson walked away before Paige could scream out her objections. Not that she could have with Sam staring at her with those big, pleading eyes.

Paige pushed her ice cream away and gave Sam an "I hate you" stare. "You're going to burn in h.e.l.l for this one."

"It's going to be my pleasure." Sam took Paige's discarded ice cream and started eating. "Isn't this the best rocky road ever?"

"Witch."

Chapter Nine.

Paige stepped into the theater. Her last-minute instructions were to buy a ticket for The Avengers, sit in the middle aisle, second row from the back, and to look directly ahead. Nowhere else.

Even though she wasn't happy with Vinden's action film of choice, she did exactly as instructed. Gaze locked on the screen as if the very core of her s.e.xual being depended on it. In all honesty, it might. If tonight held any luck, it d.a.m.n well depended on her obedience.

The lights finally dimmed and the movie began. Her gut churned and sweat broke out across the back of her neck. She stared directly ahead, refusing to even s.h.i.+ft her gaze.

Twenty minutes later, she was beginning to feel like an idiot and a little bit ridiculous. She was alone, sitting rigid straight, obeying the commands of someone she didn't even know. Where the h.e.l.l was Vinden with all her heated promises? Was this all some kind of sick joke? Had Sam orchestrated this entire ruse to teach Paige a lesson?

No. Sam wouldn't do that to her. So who? And why?

Someone slid into the seat beside her and Paige stiffened. Her insides clenched and her stomach rolled so fast she was positive she was going to throw up.

This was it. Whatever Vinden had to offer, she was about to receive it.

G.o.d bless the action movie and the sound system in this place and the fact that this theater fell second best to the one near the mall that would have been packed this time of night. Vinden had chosen her location wisely.

"h.e.l.lo, Fedora," Vinden whispered very close to her ear.

Paige couldn't say a word. All she could do was stare directly ahead while a conflagration of heat consumed her p.u.s.s.y.

Vinden flicked her tongue against Paige's earlobe. "Your obedience will be rewarded."

Paige let her eyes flutter shut and her lips parted. Fire rolled between her thighs.

The incandescence that whisper generated in Paige was torturous. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take before she screamed in pain. Only once had she experienced this kind of heat, this kind of seduction. G.o.d help her, she was going to burn alive.

"Now open for me. I need to touch you." Vinden pushed her whisper against Paige's neck.

Paige did as told, lifting her leg up and over the arm, opening herself. She dared a glance at the few couples farther down the aisle. Everyone seemed to be engrossed in the movie.

Cool air feathered across her wet lips, though it did little to cool down the inferno.

Vinden palmed her ankle, working dangerously slowly up Paige's leg, kneading flesh with every rising inch. A slight roughness to her hands, Paige noted. A working woman. Construction? Gardener? Someone who worked with her hands all day. A million jobs ran through her mind as that hand rose higher.

When Vinden reached the alcove, Paige arched, all ideas and thoughts flying from her mind, pleading for that hand to capture her, to cover her, to f.u.c.k her.

This pain, this incredible heat, was addicting.

But G.o.d help her, she wanted more. So much more. She wanted to come around this woman's fingers and mouth and tongue, no matter who was watching or listening.

When a finger tipped the edge of her c.l.i.t, Paige sucked in a breath.

"Are you ready for me, Fedora?" Vinden slightly flicked her. She sucked the lobe of Paige's ear into her mouth again, then whispered, "I need to feel you."

Paige circled her hips and pressed forward, seeking the pressure, beyond desperate for more contact. "Yes. Please."

Vinden pressed her finger a little harder, and Paige had to bite back a cry. She could do it. Cry. In a howling fit, she could bawl her a.s.s off right now. She was that desperate. That h.o.r.n.y. That greedy. She'd hunted so hard for this moment.

She arched and circled faster.

Vinden pressed into her neck and Paige inhaled for any odor. There was nothing more than the scent of Vinden's shampoo and conditioner, possibly a body wash. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious, and she wanted to bury it between her thighs.

"Do you want me inside you, Fedora?"

"G.o.d, yes." Paige angled her hips higher, pus.h.i.+ng her body toward that pleasing finger.

When Vinden pulled away, Paige grumbled. Vinden pulled Paige's hand off the arm and pushed it between her legs. "Touch yourself, Fedora."

This wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want to m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e. She'd done that a hundred times. Thousands. Nightly, sometimes to kick-start her mornings, and right now, masturbating wasn't, shouldn't be, part of this nightly equation.

When Paige didn't do as instructed, Vinden covered her hand with her own and pressed down, slowly circling her hand in motion with Paige's.

Okay, so maybe one more time wouldn't hurt. If her mystery woman was going to a.s.sist, technically, it didn't count as masturbating.

Paige started circling, enjoying the feel of Vinden guiding her way. The pressure built while Vinden tucked her face into Paige's neck and kissed a fiery path along her flesh.

Harder, faster, Vinden circled their fingers against Paige's c.l.i.t, applying perfect pressure, perfect motion.

Paige's o.r.g.a.s.m climbed like a kite on a breezy afternoon. She pumped against Vinden's fingers, desperate for the razor sharp grip of climax.

Vinden slowed her movements and Paige pushed forward, terrified Vinden would withdraw the contact when the pressure was building so steadily. She parted her lips to lash out, scream, yell, curse, beg, whatever her mind conjured up first, but before she could unleash her fury, Vinden urged Paige's middle fingers inside herself.

Paige hissed in satisfaction as Vinden pushed harder, encouraging her with steady pressure to go deeper.